and Ṭalq ibn Ghannām (1); and ʿAbd al-Razzāq ibn Hammām al-Ṣanʿānī, author of the Musannaf and the Musnad (2); and ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṣāliḥ al-ʿIjlī (3); and Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah, the famous and peerless poet (4). His full name was Ismāʿīl ibn al-Qāsim ibn Suwayd ibn Kaysān. He was originally from the Ḥijāz but settled in Baghdad, where he first earned his living selling earthenware jars. Later he won the favor of the caliphs (5), especially al-Mahdī.

Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah had fallen in love with one of al-Mahdī’s slave-girls named ʿUtbah. He asked the caliph for her more than once, but whenever the caliph was ready to grant her, the girl herself refused, saying, “Will you give me to a homely man who used to sell jars?” He therefore composed many love poems about her, and the story became common knowledge—al-Mahdī understood full well what was going on.

On one occasion the caliph summoned the poets to his court. They gathered, and among them was the blind Bashshār ibn Burd. When Bashshār heard Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah’s voice he said to the man beside him, “Is Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah here?” [He replied, “Yes.”] (6) Bashshār then had him recite the ode he had composed for ʿUtbah, whose opening line is (7):

Ah, what is the matter with my lady, what ails her?—
She has grown proud; then let me bear her pride.

Bashshār whispered to his companion, “I have never seen anyone bolder than this man,” and kept listening until Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah reached the verses:

The caliphate came to him in willing submission,
its trailing skirts drawn toward his throne.
It was fit for none but him,
and he was fit for none but it.
Had anyone else attempted to seize it,
the earth would have quaked in protest.
And had the daughters of hearts not obeyed him,
Allah would not have accepted their deeds.

Bashshār turned again to his neighbor and said, “Look, for pity’s sake—has the caliph leapt from his couch?” By Allah, no poet left that day with a reward except Abū al-ʿAtāhiyah.